


max, a disaster, a friendship

by whytho



Series: Delinquent AU [3]
Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Other, delinquent au, i love this au, max Swears, maybe body horror someone gets poked in the ear, with the Swear Words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytho/pseuds/whytho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hot in Mayview. </p><p>Max gets an ear pierced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	max, a disaster, a friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SolusCrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolusCrow/gifts).



> so like. does max's house have a kitchen in it? do they just eat stuff from the store? 
> 
> (@soluscrow i hear you played a big part in this au and i'd like to tell you yes)
> 
> i apologise for any and all mistakes i have made

Max decides he hates sunny days. 

It’s the hottest day Max has experienced in a long time- since before coming to Mayview- and the air is sticky with the heat. Air conditioning blasts from every house on the street, the noise morphing into a tuneless buzz that grates on his eardrums. The humidity sticks clothes to skin, and cicadas chirp annoyingly in the background. Everything that moves or makes a noise makes a noise of compliant, and Max makes a noise of irritation right back.

Mayview summers, Max thinks, are the worst. 

Zoey pokes her head out from behind the door frame, sucking on a cherry popsicle. For whatever reason, Max thought it would be a good idea to wait for Johnny and the lot on the back stoop, and when Zoey had pointed out that it was a terrible idea, Max had done it anyway to prove her wrong. Now he is stuck in the sweltering heat, while Zoey has the not only air conditioner, but also a box of popsicle. He hates his life. 

“Do you want one, bro?” she asks now. Max shakes his head, firm in his refusal, and she raises an eyebrow. “No one’s gonna judge you for it,” she says, smirking. “After all, it’s as hot as shit.” 

“Don’t fucking swear,” Max tells her, stretching his legs in front of him. Wearing cutoff jeans was another mistake- his thighs are burning.

“Whatever.” She pouts jokingly, and is about to return to the coolness of the shop when she spots Max’s friends. She smiles. “Watch out, Maxi-man, your friends are here.” She disappears behind the door frame again.

As Max scowls on the front stoop, Johnny Jhonny stomps up. The heat is making him finicky, even more so than usual, and the size of him pout as he sits down next to Max is enormous. He frowns for a few seconds longer, as Ollie and the rest of the gang catch up, then says conversationally to Max, “Dude, you better keep your sister out of the house if that Isaac keeps hanging around.”

“What?” Max asks, even more irritated than usual. It’s the heat, that’s probably it. He's not used to being this hot. “Why wouldn’t I trust her with Isaac? And why wouldn’t I trust her with you?”

Johnny furiously scratches the back of his head. “Well, like, the guy’s one of the straightest people I’ve ever seen. And no offense to your people, but from what I’ve heard they like girls, and your sister’s a girl.” 

Max scoffs. “As if Isaac’s… no, you know what. Never mind. And my _people_ \- nope. But-” he lifts a finger up and waggles it, smirking at Johnny. “-That doesn’t mean I still shouldn’t worry about you and my sister.” 

Stephen and Ollie exchanged a meaningful look, heavy with a language Max didn’t quite speak yet. Max was learning how to communicate like that with the Jang, but like all skills, it took practice. RJ scrapes their feet against the pavement, smiling a private grin, and Johnny smiles, wolf-like, at Max. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.” 

Max shrugs. Fingering his earlobes, he leans back against the door frame. RJ takes a seat, halfway on his lap and halfway on the stoop, and Stephen leans against a tree. All five of them stare up at the heavy Mayview sky, into the deep blue depths of summer. Dragonflies flitter over their heads, beautiful in a breathtakingly annoying way, and Max’s head spins at the sight of ghostly purple smudging over the azure. He closes his eyes. 

In the silence, Max’s voice sounds as sweet and heavy as the heat. “I’m going to get another piercing.” 

RJ murmurs something under their breath, too quiet for Max to hear. Stephen translates. “What a surprise.” Max scowls at them, not particularly seriously, and RJ tugs at Max’s ear. You’ve already got five holes in each ear, RJ seemed to be saying. Do you need another?

Johnny snorts at the two of them and closes his eyes. “I’ve got a friend that could help with that, if you’d like,” he offers, and his voice sounds just deep and honey-laden as Max’s. 

Zoey appears from behind the doorway, sucking on another popsicle; this one’s blue. Smiling in the sharp, serrated way she learned from Max, she says slowly, “Actually, my friends are coming over at five, and at least one of them has done this before.” 

Max considers this. On one hand, he could take Johnny’s morally dubious buddy’s services- and probably lose a good couple bucks in the process- or he could choose to let a couple of twelve year old girls prick his earlobe with burnt safety pins. The right decision was obvious. 

“We’ll do it tonight,” he tells Zoey. 

And that is how Maxwell Puckett, the terror of five year olds and town menace, ends up sitting in his living room at nine o’clock on a Friday night, surrounded by preteen girls going through sleepover rituals. He’s not entirely happy about it, and neither, really, are his friends. 

“Do you really have to burn the thing?” Johnny barks from where he’s taken refuge in the kitchen. 

One of the girls looks up at him reproachfully. “If I don’t burn the thing, then your friend will get an ear infection, and it might just be me but that’s not really what people want.”

Despite having his back to the kitchen, Max can tell Johnny’s frowning. “Whatever,” comes from the kitchen, and then the door slams shut. 

Leaning forward, RJ tells Max conspiratorially, “I think it’s all very exciting.” They’re curled up on a couch, knees tucked into their chest, and Max can’t help but smile a little at the sight. Two of the girls fluttering near him seem to sense his smile, and look back over at him. He quickly glares, but the damage is done; both of them are reflecting identical grins back at him. 

Max sighs. “Look, can you please just stick the goddamn needle in my ear?” 

Zoey gasps. “Max, you can’t swear here! We're all children!” 

Glaring at her, Max pulls out a pair of small gold studs, pretty and feminine. He shoves them at the girls and sits, huffily, in his spot. “Well?” he prompts. “Go on.” 

Silently, the preteens flock around him. One has an bottle of whiskey and another, a needle. A third has dumped Max’s earring in rum, much to his unshown distress, and the rest gather around to watch. The sticky summer air doesn’t get any cooler crowded with bodies, and Max can feel the heat, but he smirks and leans back and puts on a show for the kids. After all, he has a reputation to keep. 

Stephen and Ollie poke their heads out of the kitchen to watch as the second girl ceremoniously dips the needle in alcohol. She brings it up, dripping amber liquid, and without hesitation sticks it straight through the edge of Max’s earlobe. 

It’s strange, Max thinks. The prick of the needle in his skin hurts, definitely, but it’s the sort of pain that doesn’t quite reach the surface of his thoughts. It settles deep into his mind, this pain, hardening itself into a perfect pearl of hurt. Maybe it tells something about him, Max thinks. A psychologist could take that nugget of information- that nugget of pain Max had rolling around in the back of his head- and do something with it. Psychoanalyze it. Maybe they could think it was the cause of his ‘destructive tendencies’; the pain being, of course, a metaphor for his mother’s death. 

Or maybe the pain was just a metaphor for life. Max isn’t quite sure. 

He lets the pain linger in the back of his mind for a second longer, then opens his eyes. Cracking his neck, he grins at the girls, in a way that was both thrilling and scary. “Well,” he says. “Another?”

Zoey’s friends outfit him with a new hole in each of his ears, in the end. They sting a little, but Zoey lobs a bag of ice at him, and that's what lessens the pain. He’s also fairly certain he’s earned Stephen’s eternal respect, after he was stabbed in the ear twice without flinching. It’s a nice feeling, having Stephen’s wide-eyed gaze on him. He hasn’t felt it since Zoey was a kid. 

The girls herd them out of the living room the second the clock strikes eleven thirty. All five of them end up on the front stoop. The day's heat has fled, leaving behind nothing but a cool, wet breeze. Max’s bare feet rasp against the pavement in a delightful feeling, and the concrete is still warm underneath his toes. Pleased, he gives them a wiggle. 

Johnny’s eyes follow the movement as he asks, offhandedly, “Hey, you coming out tonight?” 

“Nah,” Max replies. He thrusts his chin towards the apartment over the story, saying, “Dad put me in charge tonight, and unfortunately, that does not include becoming inebriated.” 

Johnny scoffs easily, pulling out his wolf-smile. Max isn’t used to the expression; he always got the feeling that Johnny, while young, had been the solemn, stone-faced sort of thug. “As if he’ll care if you come back late,” he says.

Max shakes his head, tugging at his new earrings. RJ followed his movement, hidden half by the shadows and half by Johnny, and Max’s fingers itch for a cigarette. He doesn't even want the taste of the smoke- just the feeling of a paper roll in his fingers would be satisfy his need. “Unfortunately, Zoey might notice me coming back at two o’clock in the fucking morning. Last time was bad enough.” 

Johnny doesn’t reply, but Max can feel him thinking over it. RJ pokes their head out of the dark and asks, with their big quiet eyes blinking prettily, “If you wouldn’t come out with us, then can you tell me where you got them jewels from?” 

Max’s fingers tighten around his ear unconsciously. RJ's question was light and meaningless, really- they probably just wanted to find a pair for their sister or something. He licks his lips, the upper one still puffy from his last fight with the West Hill kids, and the pavement against his feet is suddenly stiflingly hot. Cicadas are still buzzing behind him, like a movie soundtrack. He can’t help but think that this scene, this situation in the cool, dark summer night, would be the over-emotional one, where the lead confesses all his secrets to his dearest friends. He shakes the thought away and says, words like a wall, “They were my mother’s.”

“Oh,” is all RJ says. They stand up on their tiptoes to look at the earrings and Max, feeling unnaturally tall, leans down obligingly. “All of them?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, cool,” RJ says, in that quiet, unassuming way of theirs. Max feels like their tone means something, despite the fact that they’re thinking about cereal brands, and thinks about their tone for so long that he misses the chance to reply. Silence falls upon the two of them, leaking out to touch Johnny and Ollie, too.

Stephen coughs. “So, uh, you coming over Tuesday, man? We’ve got another rad-as-shit study session in the library at four.”

Max thinks, then tells him, “Nah, I’ve got a J-Club meeting then. I can do the Thursday joint, though, if you’re still having one.” 

“J-Club?” Johnny interrupts, wrinkling up his nose. “Why’d you even join that goddamn thing?” 

“Same reason we both joined the AC,” Max tells him, and Johnny narrows his eyes. They both know the real reason Johnny joined the Activity Club, but they also know neither will admit why. Max smiles, casual and shark-like, to put him at ease. “It’ll look good on college applications.” 

“Whatever,” Johnny mutters, licking his lips. He leans backwards into arm, stretching an arm behind his head, and asks, “See you Monday?” 

Max nods, and together, the Jang walks off into the darkness. Zoey slips out of the house to joins him on the stoop, and they watch the Jang's fading backs. Their odd collection of heavy muscles and slim hips blend together to create nothing but a smudge against the darkness, and Max exhales. 

“Well,” Zoey says finally, when the four figures have faded. “They were certainly something.” 

Max hums an agreement, wrapping an arm around his sister. She leans her head against his shoulder, and for the second time in five minutes Max felt unreasonably tall. When, he wonders, did it happen?

“And they’re certainly different from your other friends,” continues Zoey. Looking up at him, she pokes Max’s cheeks and says, grinning, “Certainly a different type than Isaac." 

He shoves her finger away from his cheek, laughing. The sound is deep and throaty in the summer night, and with a layer of crickets beneath it, the noise is almost melodic. “Hey!” he protests. “Just because Isaac- well. He’s a nerd. But that doesn’t mean you should make fun of him!” 

Zoey laughs in response, higher and sweeter than Max, but still a Puckett laugh. “I never said anything bad about him. Why are you so eager to leap to his defense?” 

Max splutters. Zoey’s laugh, the one she used to make when they were kids, fades into one of the smiles she learned from Max, and she leans into him. Her side is warm against Max, comfortingly so, and he realizes with a shock that she smells of lilacs. Hesitantly, he leans down to sniff her hair, and the unmistakable scent of flowers floods his nostrils. It's sweet and heavy in the summer darkness, and it brings a familiar pang to his chest.

Without moving, Zoey says quietly, “You’re not the only one using Mom’s stuff, Max.” Her voice isn’t tight, but it’s certainly strong, and sounds so much like her mother Max can feel his heart hurt. 

“You’re growing up,” he murmurs into her hair, and she wraps her arm around him for a quick hug. Then she lets go and says, voice still quiet, “I’ve gotta go back to the party. Max-”

“Yeah?”

She sighs once. “Love you, bro.” 

Max bites his lip once, quick and sharply painful. “Love you too, sis.” 

Zoey’s footfalls are noticeable, but not heavy, as she scampers up the stairs, adding a pretty rhythm to the bugs’ chorus of chirps and buzzes. Max sits on the edge of the stoop well into the night, scraping his toes against the sidewalk and grass. The air gets even cooler, and one by one the last lights in Mayview flicker off. The sky above is a mess of blues and blacks and purples, of stars and clouds, of ghostly figures Max doesn’t have the heart to look at.

Max stands and makes his way upstairs. He slips past the mounds of girls in the living room, past PJ and Lefty arguing in the kitchen, past his father, snoring away in his bedroom. Opening his door, he walks in soft and light and sits on the edge of his bed, and when the very last light bulb in Mayview clicks off, he rolls over and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i mostly wrote this because of thelunarwarrior talked about this one quote form the dream thieves with Ronan and Matthew and as you might have noticed, I'm a sucker for the raven cycle. 
> 
> also! yes! i love this au!!!!! twilighteve do you know how much i love this??!!! so much!! (also yes i may right more of this is people are okay with it because i love this au. and janett the secretary. and suzy and collin and everyone someone save me from the heck my life has become


End file.
